Notes: I'm not going to try to include canon dialogue anymore except in instances where I really liked it (or really disliked it and want to use that to make a character look bad, lol). I am not replaying the game as I write, so it's a bit of a pain to dig up random canon dialogue for its own sake and breaks the flow of writing for me. We are almost past the events that are only mildly canon-divergent, anyway.
Yes, the "elevating the High Sparrow for political advantage" plot of Game of Thrones is an influence—but don't take that as a spoiler or a hint for anything about the future events of this story. I'm doing my own thing, which will become apparent after I am past the (semi-)canon events. And if there is a female Westerosi that I think Caitlyn is like, it's Daenerys, not Cersei. In the good and the bad ways.
Song is "Wake Me Up When September Ends" by Green Day.
Chapter 37: The Innocent Can Never Last
"The false shepherdess, who would feed this city to the wolves, has fled in disgrace, but those whose plot she was aiding still remain! Is it justice for a traitor to escape without consequence and the enemy to sit not merely at our doorstep, but inside our house? I ask you, people of Kirkwall: Is it?"
Caitlyn held her head high, trying not to think too hard about the fury of the armed crowd that she was passing by, their weapons held upward, their faces distorted in rage. And she has nothing to fear now, Caitlyn thought. I thought she wasn't inhibited by fear of Elthina before, but she is truly unchained now.
"How long are we to wait for our so-called leadership to act? Do our leaders truly think we can have peace with those who are commanded to conquer and ravage, to destroy all that is, in their tongue, 'bas'? Perhaps the plan is for the son of a certain leader to convert to the Qun so that he can forge peace?" Petrice mocked to the furious crowd, reveling in her own sarcasm.
In spite of everything, Caitlyn was mildly amused by that. She wished she weren't. In her suspicion, Viscount Dumar either did not accept the reality that his son was close to converting, or he did not understand the gravity of such a decision by the son of the ruling Viscount. It wouldn't be like an adolescent boy going through a wild period, she thought. Many children do that. It can still be harmful, but it's not unusual. Converting to the Qun while the Arishok sits in Kirkwall in implicit challenge to the Viscount, though? That's different. She gazed back at the crowd. I just wish she were saying that in a measured way rather than just using it to rile people up. I may benefit from this, but only in that the common people will support a new leader too. If I become Viscountess, it will be because the gentry and nobility have supported me to replace Dumar, not because Petrice enraged Lowtown.
Caitlyn hurried away, not wanting to hear more.
Anders was waiting for her at home with a letter from Orlais, at last. To Caitlyn's surprise, it was from Leliana—but the former bard had made sure to address it to her and to Anders, clearly wanting to avoid any act that might create undue friction between the couple. Anders was smiling mildly as he passed it to her, having already read it for himself.
.
Caitlyn and Warden Anders,
I have heard of the shocking events in Kirkwall and have advised Divine Justinia in accordance with your recommendations. I do not know this priest, and all that I can uncover of her in Val Royeaux is the fall of her noble family and holdings, but I trust your judgment and do not wish to interfere with your existing plans, alliances, or your admirable goals without due cause.
Divine Justinia and I pray for the safety of Kirkwall until the Arishok takes his force and departs for his homeland—and, for my part, I pray for your success afterward. Maker watch over you all.
Sister Nightingale
.
She set down the letter and looked up at Anders. "That was brief and to the point." She trusts my judgment, Caitlyn thought, suddenly feeling a pang for that particular turn of phrasing after what she had just witnessed in Lowtown.
Anders nodded, not noticing her discomfiture. "What do you make of that assertion that 'for her part' she'll pray for our success—but not for Justinia's part?"
"I think she just respects Justinia greatly and doesn't want to speak for her in something that she hasn't explicitly discussed with her. Yet," she added. "She trusts my judgment"—perhaps more than she ought—"and I trust her. She's on our side, Anders, and her experience as a bard makes me trust her assessment of her associates, like Justinia. She's optimistic and idealistic, but not naïve and foolish." Caitlyn gave him a grin. "And don't you trust Elissa Cousland's judgment too?"
He considered that, finally nodding. "Yes. That's all true. I just worry a lot." He sighed heavily, folding his hands in his lap. "It's still difficult for me to fully trust people in the Chantry or Templars. Especially Templars. Even knowing Ser Thrask... and Varnell," he added grudgingly, as he rather disliked the latter.
She got up and sat beside him, giving him a brief hug and leaning against his side. He draped his arm over her, pulling her close in a loose, comfortable embrace. "You experienced things that I never did," Caitlyn said to him. "I lost you to the Circles, but I didn't ever lose my entire family. I've never even set foot in one myself. I didn't have my youth taken from me. I always saw the seasons change, year after year. And..." She sighed. "I mourn the cousin I never knew, and I mourn your friend for you, but that's just it; no one I personally knew was made Tranquil. I understand why you feel this way."
He took a shaky breath. "I am trying to see people as people, to look past this instinctive distrust. Isn't that what I want others to do for mages like our family? I should follow my own rule. I'm trying, love. But... even so... I'm glad that you have taken the lead. Some of the things you've set in motion, I couldn't have been able to make myself do. And they needed to be done."
Caitlyn was moved by his words of confidence in her. Her anxiety decreased as she considered them. As she had often told herself, what other choice had she had? Elthina had had to go, and her betrayal was only further proof. Petrice would surely temper her rhetoric once the Qunari, whom she genuinely detested, were sent back home, and she had the official imprimatur and dignity of the Grand Cleric's seat, rather than being just a temporary "acting head priest" who could command only those her voice reached on its own. The aggressive rhetoric made Caitlyn nervous now, since the Arishok and his soldiers did still sit in the docks district, but it would pass, and then Ser Marlein and the others would call their moot to force Dumar to step down and choose a new leader. It would all work out, of that Caitlyn was certain at this moment.
They leaned into each other gently, gazing ahead, until Mal entered the room with an expectant smile and a request for magic lessons. It was the perfect coda to the couple's moment of contemplation for the future they wanted to build, and they eagerly got to their feet with smiles on their faces.
The next morning, Caitlyn received a summons to the Viscount's Keep—or, rather, it was worded as a request for counsel, but one did not refuse such a "request," even when the Viscount issuing it was weak and foolish. I, after all, cannot escape to another Marcher city to claim a crown for myself, she thought cynically as she prepared herself for the visit. I can't rebel... yet. She reflected in amusement that the crown she was after was on the head of the man who wanted to talk to her.
Dumar was a curious mix of agitation and sadness. He bade her sit down in his Little Audience Chamber. To her surprise, no one else was present.
"Your Grace," she protested, "I am not entirely comfortable with this situation." It wasn't that she feared this man physically—far from it—but this could look bad for her on two fronts if word of it got out. There were people in Kirkwall who still made false insinuations about Mal's parentage and Caitlyn's own conduct, and there were also Hightown allies, disgusted with Dumar, whom she wanted to keep cultivated, and they might look askance at her allowing herself to become Dumar's advisor.
He gazed down at his lap unhappily. "I won't keep you long, then. I just... hoped I might ask your advice on some points."
"I will do what I can to help Your Grace," she said curtly.
He unfolded a scroll that he had clearly just received before he sent for her. "You will hear of this soon enough, no doubt. This is the decree of the Divine in Val Royeaux, stripping Elthina of all her honors and titles as a priest of the Chantry, and appointing this Mother Petrice in her stead."
Well, that's no surprise to me, Caitlyn thought. She managed a nod of acknowledgment for him. "She has made a leader of herself lately, and Divine Justinia must understand the mood of the city is for a priest who... is very much the opposite of one who conspired to allow a Qunari assassination plot."
"I'm sure so," he said, unable to meet her eyes. He shook faintly. "It's still hard for me to believe sometimes... how to square that away with what Saemus says of them... the boy is of the mind that it's just another way of life and we can exist side by side..."
Caitlyn considered her words carefully. "Viscount Dumar, better scholars of the Qun than I am have said otherwise. You might ask your son if he realizes that he would have to give up his life and family—he would not be able to have a father, and he would not even be able to keep his own name—if he joined."
"That's what the priest... our new Grand Cleric, I suppose... has said at her... events... or so I am told by the guards who observed discreetly—"
So Aveline did station guards to keep an eye on the rallies, Caitlyn thought. But she did it without their being noticed. Good idea.
"—but I always hoped, I guess, that she was exaggerating for effect."
"She is... a very dramatic speaker... but every claim that she has made about life under the Qun is accurate." Caitlyn leaned forward. "Did you want advice from me about how to work with her, Your Grace?"
Dumar sighed. "Not precisely. I mean to keep more to my sphere and let her keep to hers. I was too close to Elthina, that I realize. I told her things that I should not have about my family, and I do fear that..." He trailed off.
"That what, Viscount?"
He picked up again unhappily. "I have also received word from Starkhaven. Prince Sebastian has arrived there and has been accepted as the last heir of the Vael family."
That is entirely your fault for allowing him to leave Kirkwall, she thought.
"He has informed all the Marcher lords—and the monarchs of the big countries, I suppose, too—of his accession, rather arrogantly if I may say so, and has declared that he has entered into an alliance with the Grand Cleric of Tantervale 'for the glory of Our Lady Andraste.'"
Caitlyn looked up sharply, very alarmed at this news. Kirkwall was a troubled city with a vocal regressive element among Meredith's supporters, but there was also a reform-minded population, and Kirkwall did have a secular government, however weak its current head of state was. The law protected those who were not Andrastian along with the Chantry faithful. Tantervale was ruled all but openly by the Chantry, and the most reactionary sector of it, at that. Chantry rules were law, with violations punished criminally. That Sebastian was aligning openly with this, and that the Grand Cleric of Tantervale had backed him, presumably knowing that he was harboring a fugitive traitor, meant nothing good for unity in the Chantry. Divine Justinia will not like this news, Caitlyn thought in concern. This could spark a second schism if something isn't done to stop it. And on the purely worldly side, an alliance between two warm northern Marcher states, along the Minanter River, with the advantages to trade, farming, and defense that the river provides... This is bad.
"Serah Hawke, I think this disturbs you even more than it did me!"
Caitlyn raised her gaze to his. "I cannot answer as to that," she said at last, "but it does indeed trouble me a lot that another Grand Cleric has allied with the prince who is sheltering Elthina, and the geographical location of the two cities is... very advantageous to their alliance and their own stability."
Dumar closed his eyes. "It is troubling," he admitted. "Do you think I should make an offer of truce to Prince Sebastian?"
She stared at him in amazement. "Absolutely not... Your Grace," she added. "Whatever Elthina may be to him personally, his actions are an insult to you and to Kirkwall. This was not a matter of a tyrant wanting to execute a troublemaker for a personal slight. This was proven treason."
"I truly dreaded the thought of hanging a gray-haired priest, Serah Hawke," he pleaded. "You are... very focused on justice..."
You don't even know the half of what "justice" means in my household, she thought with a touch of dark humor.
"...but I just hated the thought of it in this case. It would have been so very ugly, serah, and I was glad that night that I didn't have to do it. If he had gone to Tantervale with her, to serve as a brother there and for her to claim sanctuary in the Tantervale cathedral, as she would be permitted as a layperson now... that would have been different."
"But that is not what he did," Caitlyn pressed, seeing no use in arguing the point about punishing certain crimes whoever had committed them. "Instead he took a crown and made an alliance that introduces a veiled challenge to Divine Justinia, let alone yourself! You do not owe him anything; he owes you restitution. Frankly, due to the nature of Elthina's crime, he owes you the unconditional support of Starkhaven's soldiers if the Qunari try anything else."
Dumar shook his head in futility. "He'll never do that!"
"Perhaps not," she admitted, "but you should still request it, if you want to communicate with him. You should certainly not offer anything to him."
Dumar sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I will think on it more before sending my response to his announcement. You have my leave to return to your family, Serah Hawke."
No one in the Hawke family had been much of a regular Chantry-goer. They had enjoyed the music, and the Hawke parents had taught their children the Chant of Light and the history of Andraste's rebellion and betrayal. But the Revered Mother of Lothering had been the type of priest who had a gentle voice, sweet demeanor, and a deep streak of cruelty and meanness. During the Blight, just before the town fell, she had set up a prisoner in a cage to be publicly humiliated and then left for the darkspawn, rather than being made to serve the army or even given a clean death. She had directed a priest to harass Lothering citizens in the village square for selling goods to refugees at a profit, while extorting coin from travelers herself that surely would not go to the Chantry, since the Chantry was about to be destroyed. Caitlyn's resistance to visiting the Lothering Chantry to have Mal named and registered had been resentment of the Chantry over Anders' capture, but it had also been dislike of this woman even though she'd had nothing to do with that. On reflection, Caitlyn supposed that it wasn't much wonder that she had been able to work with Petrice. After the initial act of deceit in 9:31, she had never pretended to be gentle and sweet-natured to Caitlyn or to anyone else; she had presented herself exactly as she was without softening the edges, and Caitlyn respected that even when she wanted to incinerate her or feared that Petrice's actions would do more harm than good. Caitlyn was like that herself, after all.
Nevertheless, going to the Chantry to listen to the Chant or sermons was not a habit they had formed in the Lothering days, due to these factors and need to keep the mages of the family hidden. However, this would be Petrice's inaugural sermon as Grand Cleric, and Caitlyn knew that staying home for it would be a slight that the priest likely would consider unforgivable. It was not her choice for how to spend a morning, but it was not something she could skip. Anders could skip it, and he was going to. Someone was always ill, after all. Mal was going to stay with him. But Caitlyn and Leandra were going.
Besides, she thought as she pulled on a nice gown, it's an opportunity to see what the major players are doing—or infer things about their absences.
The first thing she noticed as she entered the city Chantry, which was unusually full this morning, was that Meredith Stannard was not there. This actually surprised her; she had taken Meredith to be capable of feigning loyalty and duty to others in order to ingratiate herself with them. She had pulled that trick with Viscount Dumar, and possibly Elthina—though Cait was not certain exactly who had been the dominant force in that relationship. But Meredith had no qualms about issuing a rather public insult to this priest, which, Caitlyn realized, meant that she was positioning herself as a foe immediately. Could she be aligned with Sebastian, Elthina, and Tantervale already? she wondered. It seemed possible. She certainly would admire the theocracy of Tantervale.
Viscount Dumar was there—though Saemus was not. Caitlyn forbore from rolling her eyes about that. The de Launcets and her other Hightown associates had formed a knot in the left side of the sanctuary, and Caitlyn and her mother joined them there as the priest began to welcome everyone and speak.
After the expected formalities of acknowledging her new position and "hoping to bring Kirkwall together," Petrice wasted no time.
"The day may come when we, like the faithful of the earliest years after the Prophet's death, like those who suffered the trials of the Exalted Marches, have to take up arms to defend our faith—our city—and our way of life," she intoned, her voice carrying. "The Maker has called us to guard and watch, to be vigilant and prepared. As the betrayal of Our Lady shows, and recent events in this very city have again illustrated, treason can lurk anywhere because greed and a lust for unearned power can lurk anywhere. The Maker turned His gaze from us because of what mankind did to Andraste. Do any of you think that the independence of Kirkwall will endure if we fail to secure and defend ourselves? To our north are those who would happily annex and capture our city, and would say they had just cause if we allowed it to fall to the Qun."
She knows, Caitlyn thought as a chill went down her spine. She knows about Starkhaven and Tantervale, and that is what she is alluding to. Some type of conflict—I hope not armed—may be inevitable, but she welcomes it.
"The Maker forgives those who seek forgiveness, it is true... but we must not forget that He is just, and the just punishment for sloth is to become incapacitated, a ward of another, who will forcibly do what the slothful will not do for himself." She paused. "Be vigilant. Be watchful. Be prepared. This is itself a defense of your city, your faith, and your Maker—and you may be called upon to do more."
Within a day of the sermon, residents of Kirkwall had taken her words to heart. It was impossible now to pass through the docks district near the Qunari compound without encountering armed vigilantes who styled themselves "the First Watchmen." She and Anders were in Lowtown trying to make a formal alliance with a woman named Selby, a strong mage sympathizer and rather well-to-do, who used her wealth to help Circle escapees and hunted apostates get out of Kirkwall, when they encountered the Watchmen.
"If the oxmen come out to attack at last," explained a burly woman warrior bearing a sword and shield, "we'll be the first line of defense against them. We'll be the ones they'll have to cut through if they try to sack the city! And we mean to prevent it, on Andraste's blood," she vowed. "Or diminish their numbers as much as we can if we fall."
Caitlyn was not sure what to think, or more importantly, to say. On the whole, she didn't think it was a bad idea for people to be keeping watch on the Qunari compound, for the exact reasons that the woman had detailed. Viscount Dumar should have had agents spying on them ever since they arrived, and he should have authorized Aveline to station guards near the compound so that they would at least realize they would not have a free path if the Arishok ever declared that the Qun demanded the seizure of Kirkwall. But these were not the city guards; they were independent vigilantes, most likely the most devoted of Petrice's following. They might not exercise the professionalism of guards, and their presence might incite the Arishok.
"I thank you for your service to the city," she said at last to the woman, who seemed to be the First Watchmen's leader. "Are you trained in combat, then? As much as we all want to help, it's important that those who take up weapons know how to use them."
The woman nodded. "We've all seen 'combat' of some sort. A few from your homeland, Serah Hawke, who fought at that old Fereldan fortress in the south... a good assortment of mercenaries, Coterie muscle, all kinds. All of us have our own weapons and we know what we're doing, I assure you."
Her voice was so dark and bloodthirsty that these words utterly failed to reassure. Anders looked uneasily to one side. "That's good to know," Caitlyn finally said. "Just... don't let anyone provoke them. We don't want to be the villains, and there is still hope that the Qunari will go home on their own."
She scoffed. "That hope is dwindling by the day, serah. But I hear you about not being the villains. And we're not. We let people come and go. We're just watching in case there's ever worse than that."
When they found Mistress Selby, they learned that she was worried that any Circle reforms the new Grand Cleric—and, she heavily hinted, new political leadership—implemented would require a compromise with Meredith to authorize even stronger crackdowns on her mage-sympathetic network. Caitlyn wondered if her ambition was only a secret to Viscount Dumar himself at this point. After she and Anders reassured Mistress Selby that they had no intention of giving Meredith anything she might demand, thereby gaining a pledge from the mage sympathizer for her support, Anders and Caitlyn headed home at last.
His face was troubled, she noticed. He would want to talk once he had checked on the clinic and they had spent family time with Mal, who greeted them with a mouthful of his grandmother's cookies and two more in hand. Neither Caitlyn nor Anders wanted to scold him, especially since those cookies smelled delicious and were still warm...
"I'm concerned," Anders confessed later that night after they had settled down to sit side-by-side on the bed. "I know I've said that several times since you began to plan all of this, but what we saw today at the docks truly bothers me. The First Watchmen," he clarified.
She gazed ahead. "You could probably tell that it bothered me too."
"I could."
"There is nothing I can do about them, though. I would antagonize a lot of people at this point if I tried to turn them off, and why would they obey me? I have no right to command them to leave that area."
"Yet," he said with a wry smirk.
"Yet," she agreed. The smile on her face that had formed faded at once. "And besides, they are serving a function that the Viscount did not want to order done himself. It would be better if Aveline's guards did the work... and I don't know that he has thought of having a watch on the Qunari compound, but it really would not surprise me if he has and just hasn't done it because he is afraid of the Arishok. That doesn't mean it's a bad idea for people to keep watch. If... Maker forbid... they do attack, at least they would have to fight immediately."
Anders sighed. "I know. I was torn about it too. But I'm getting concerned about the entire situation. Petrice... she's powerful. Her voice is powerful, and she has power now, of course. She does, and you don't—yet. That worries me, that imbalance. And besides that general unease, there are two specific possible outcomes that keep me awake, so to speak."
"One of them, I assume, is that her rhetoric finally provokes the Arishok."
He grimaced. "Honestly, Cait... I hate to say this, to even think it, but... I fear that it's inevitable that he's going to attack. He hasn't obtained whatever it is that he wants. I'm almost equally worried about what may come after."
"Maker!" she exclaimed. "What could be as bad as the city being sacked?"
"If Meredith says that you and Petrice provoked the attack and are to blame for it, and Dumar agrees with her," he said darkly. "And the two of you are popular favorites now, but people's minds might turn quickly after an attack."
Caitlyn stared at him in horror. That had not occurred to her.
"The other possibility is if the Arishok is more patient than I fear, and the stalemate continues, with no 'moot' or whatever they call it to replace Dumar. Petrice might decide to make peace with Meredith if she thinks you aren't going to take the high seat after all."
Caitlyn blew out her breath through her teeth, her fear suddenly transformed to frustration. "Anders," she said as patiently as she could manage, "Meredith is the one who has been hostile. She, the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, didn't even go to Petrice's inaugural sermon. Whatever Petrice is, she is not one to waste energy and capital courting inveterate enemies."
He gave her a piercing look. "You keep trying to assure me that you don't really trust her. 'Whatever she is,' 'what choice did I have,' and so on. And three years ago, you didn't trust her. But I think you do now."
"Then you don't know the conflict I've had in my own mind about her rhetoric, her rallies, her Game-playing approach to power."
He backed down, but only somewhat. "All right. I believe you. But I also think you trust her, despite this inner conflict. You don't just see her as an ally of convenience anymore; I think you kind of like her now, even if you don't like everything she does."
She stared back stonily at him. Her mind whispered that he was right, even though she did not want to admit it—to him or to herself.
He sighed again. "Caitlyn—there is a potential Chantry fracture, a second schism, brewing."
"I'm perfectly aware of that."
"And she is too. I would stake my life on it."
"And you think she would offer an olive branch to Meredith because of this? Meredith and her allies are the cause of it. The smart thing to do would be to align strongly with Divine Justinia instead."
Anders gazed at her with a pleading look. "She warned you that Meredith would appeal her own dismissal to the Knight-Vigilant and Lord Seeker. Divine Justinia isn't the only power in the Chantry. Cait... I admire you so much. I mean that," he said, and his eyes and voice bled sincerity. "You formed a plan and it really might be coming to fruition. I said it the other day and I meant it: I couldn't have done this. I admire you more than I can even say."
She knew that he was going to follow this up with a "but," but she still was moved almost to tears as she shared a quick but tight hug with him.
"But I know you, and I am pretty sure that you admire something in that priest too. You do see her dark side—I don't mean at all that you're blind to that—but after your initial distrustful resignation to working with her because she seemed the only option, I think you've come to see something in her that you admire."
Caitlyn realized that she had experienced that exact thought lately, and she could not deny it now. "You're not wrong," she admitted in a low voice.
"And... in a way, I guess that's good... if she reciprocates." The admission seemed hard for him to make, but this was a night for tough admissions, and Caitlyn was glad that they could both do it with each other. "It makes the alliance stronger," he continued. "But Caitlyn, love... please, please don't forget that her reasons for wanting power are not your reasons. She'll work with us on the Circles and mage rights if you achieve your ambition, but that is not the reason she wanted to become Grand Cleric."
She leaned against his shoulder, caressing his chest for comfort—and because it felt like a lifeline. Staring ahead, away from his body, she nodded. "I know." Her fingers ran over his pectoral muscles, reveling in his physical presence and the inexhaustible font of support that he was for her. She was much happier and more balanced since he had reentered her life three years ago, and she knew it was the same for him. Her gestures brought him to suck in his breath and wrap his left arm tightly around her, pulling her very close. "I won't forget. And you're right—you didn't say it explicitly, but you are right that I need to make my play very soon. I will talk to my allies to schedule the moot."
She meant to do that the very next day, but a great many things occurred that day.
It began relatively innocuously, a pleasant sunrise and a nice breakfast for the family. Mal actually expressed a desire to stay at home today rather than going to the clinic, because he wanted to practice casting snow and ice again. Caitlyn could not much blame him; it was the middle of summer and there was only so much that even mages could do to cool a house—and Kirkwall was hotter than southern Ferelden. As Anders headed off, a mild smile on his face for the fact that his son was interested in several kinds of magic, Caitlyn got ready for the practice session with Mal in the well-warded basement.
She only got to spend half an hour working with him before the first sign that things were about to start happening. Isabela eased into the basement uneasily, her face betraying something that Caitlyn had almost never seen in the pirate: shame.
She bade Mal keep practicing as she stepped away to talk quietly with her friend, keeping watch on him out of the corner of one eye.
"I... need to tell you," Isabela muttered, gazing down at the stone floor. "It's about my encounters with the Qunari."
A sharp chill shot down Caitlyn's spine. "Is this what you were going to say the day that Meredith came to the house when I was out?"
"Yes. I really did mean to tell you, I swear. I was just about to."
Caitlyn sighed heavily. This has reached a critical point, then, since she is telling me of her own accord. Something big is about to happen.
"They were pursuing me because I had... acquired... a very important cultural relic of theirs."
Caitlyn drew in her breath, suddenly remembering the frank discussion she had had with all of her friends. "Isabela," she said, "please tell me it's not the book that Fenris mentioned that night... the Tome of Koslun..."
Isabela grimaced. "That man whose slaves I set free? It would get him off my back. And, uh, some extra for me. Tevinter wants it badly."
"Oh, Maker," Caitlyn cursed. She sighed, forcing herself to keep her temper. This happened three years ago, she thought with a sudden surge of betrayal. She has known all along why the Qunari weren't leaving, but her own greed kept her from telling me, her supposed friend, even as I aligned openly and publicly with the most anti-Qunari priest in the city, saw the former Grand Cleric credibly accused of treason involving the Qunari, and became a public figure myself in support of getting them to go back home! I did all this, and she knew for three years why they weren't leaving!
"You're angry," Isabela said quietly.
Caitlyn sucked her breath between clenched teeth and exhaled sharply. "Yes," she acknowledged. "That you've known about this for three years and never told me, even as I got more and more involved in Kirkwall... Why are you telling me now? What changed?"
"I lost the relic. I haven't had it in my actual possession. I was trying to protect you and your family."
"Protect me?" she burst out. She glanced at Mal, who had stopped his magic and was observing the conversation intently. "Keeping secrets from me doesn't protect me! It doesn't protect him"—she gestured hotly at her son—"or anyone else in this family! Isabela, I know you realize that it isn't protection to avoid facing problems! You helped save my mother that one night!"
"Until this year, you weren't that involved in this. It did seem like I was protecting you by not telling you. What could you have done? I didn't have it anyway."
"We would have helped you to track it down! We would have killed that slaver for you!" Caitlyn exploded. She sighed, running her hands through her red hair. "All right. You said you lost it. I presume you have it now?"
"I, uh... actually don't. But I know who does," she said at once, seeing that her friend was about to explode in temper again.
Caitlyn counted to five mentally before speaking again. Her voice was much calmer, at least. "Go and find it," she finally said. "Bring it to me. I will take it to the bloody Arishok myself. No, Isabela, you're not selling it to Tevinter," she said at once when Isabela looked unhappy at being denied the prospect of immense coin. She glanced briefly at Mal and lowered her voice even more so that he wouldn't hear what she said. "As a private citizen, I wouldn't give a tinker's damn if Tevinter used the Tome to beat the Qunari. I'd be fine with that outcome and I'm absolutely certain that Anders would be even happier. But I am not intending to be a private citizen for much longer, and I cannot pursue the high seat of Kirkwall after aiding and abetting foreign espionage myself while someone else sits in the Kirkwall prison for that same crime. I do have some limits, and I try not be a hypocrite."
Isabela scowled, but fortunately not for long. Caitlyn would not have been able to tolerate looking at her if she did, and she seemed to realize that this long-standing betrayal of a friend merited atonement. After another minute, she nodded and left quickly.
Mal gazed at his mother with wide eyes once they were alone in the basement again. "Mother?" he said. "What's about to happen?"
She went over to him and pulled him close into a loose hug. Her eyes closed of their own accord as she tried to block out the whirlwind that she knew was coming. If only it could just be our family, my dear sweet boy, she thought. None of this, just us, your father, your grandparents—both of them, and Maker, Anders' mother too—and your uncle and aunt, your poor cousin, all of us just living a quiet life... If we just could have lived in peace, free of fear... but we couldn't have. And if I win, we never will, though the fears we face will be different. I'm so, so sorry... but it is necessary.
"Mal," she said, "I think things are about to change for us again." She took a deep breath. He was six and a half years old; that was old enough to comprehend this. "I am going to try to become the leader of Kirkwall, so that I can change things and we never have to fear being separated as a family."
He smiled. "But that's good, isn't it?"
"That is. But... before it happens, the city might become unsafe." More than it already is. "You need to do exactly as your father and I tell you. It's extremely important." Already she started giving thought to how to protect him if—Maker forbid—the Arishok was dissatisfied even when the Tome of Koslun was presented to him. When she had spoken to him one time, he had suggested that it was a dishonor for someone not of the Qun to touch it. I need a heavy guard to enter their compound, she thought. I... will have to bring in the First Watchmen, I guess. And Mal... "Your father may want to stay here with you. But whether he does or not, I am going to leave you with Baldwin. He can protect you about as well as we can!"
It seemed later to Caitlyn as though a dam had burst that day. She had meant to go to the clinic to talk to Anders, to catch him up on everything that was happening, when her own mother interrupted them in the basement with another shocking piece of news.
"Viscount Dumar needs to see you quickly!" she exclaimed. "His son has joined the Qunari, as a convert, and has taken up residence in their compound! He apparently swore it was because of the new Grand Cleric and the vigilantes outside the compound."
Caitlyn actually sagged against the stone wall, her head suddenly swimming from being overcome. "And what does he think I can do about that?" she finally managed to say. "The Arishok cannot possibly respect or trust me, and even if he did, I rather doubt they cast out willing converts at anyone's behest!"
"The messenger didn't say," Leandra said, her voice shaky. "He might just want to commiserate..."
Caitlyn's temper, already on hair trigger by the sting of three years of lies from Isabela, flared yet again. "Commiserate?" she barked. "Is that actually what the messenger suggested?"
"He said that the Viscount requested 'counsel and solace' and sought it from you since Elthina is... not here. That is what I took it to mean."
She finally snapped. A surge of magic exploded from her, a flame forming in her hand almost involuntarily. In a sudden physical movement, she hurled the resulting fireball at the bare, warded stone wall, where it dissipated. Caitlyn took a breath, feeling satisfaction—rather like a non-mage would feel about throwing or punching some object in a fury. She turned to her mother, disgust for the Viscount oozing from her words. "It is entirely his own fault that this has happened," she said. "And I have bigger problems right at the moment than a pathetic man who wants someone to talk to him to make him feel better! He shouldn't feel better about this! He should abdicate, now! If I do have to talk to him, that's what I'm going to tell him!"
Leandra whimpered. "Caitlyn, please..."
"Mother, you need to stay inside," she said crisply, changing the subject, though only slightly, she feared. Mentally she was already preparing for some type of conflict today. Kirkwall had become a flask of explosive—or a gaatlok keg, she thought with dark humor. "Unless it becomes unsafe in the house, and then, you need to take Mal and Orana—and the pets—and evacuate through Darktown. There are tunnels that people use for smuggling in and out of town."
"Caitlyn! Whatever do you mean..."
"I mean that I have a bad feeling," she said darkly. "I just learned why the Qunari haven't left—that's why Isabela was here, to confess to me that she's known all along, and hasn't told me for three years, but that she thinks she might be able to get the thing they're waiting here for. But I am not entirely convinced that they will leave even if that works out. And now, this news about Saemus Dumar... You just need to stay inside."
Reluctantly, but frightened by the grimness of her daughter's words, Leandra nodded in assent.
At last she was able to tell Anders everything. He was having a slow day in the clinic—thank the Maker for that, at least, she thought—and did not hesitate to close it down in order to return to the house to protect the others.
"I understand that it's your nature to want to lead, and to protect people," he said to her, holding her tightly, "but for the Maker's sake, be careful and don't take any risks that you don't have to." He glowered darkly. "I personally think it would be justice for Isabela to have to hand the Tome over to the Arishok herself, even if she is trembling as she does it."
"Don't tempt me," she said. "I don't want to alienate her forever..."
"She lied to us for three years, including most of this one, even knowing how deeply you were getting involved in everything. That's... well, I would find it hard to forgive."
"I am not even thinking about forgiveness yet," she admitted to him. "I am just trying to do what must be done and prevent this from escalating any more. Let's see what I have to forgive first—what, if anything, happens due to this."
As soon as she stepped outside the Hawke house, she overheard muffled, attenuated shouts. As she walked up the streets of Hightown to approach the Keep, she realized where the noises were coming from. A mob of furious protesters, some well-dressed and therefore probably from Hightown, and others less so, were standing outside the Viscount's residence, screaming curses and epithets. Some were throwing rotten fruit and garbage.
"Step down!" screamed an angry woman who was waving a blood-red flag with the golden sunburst symbol of the Chantry overlaid with an arrow and the words "Kirkwall Supports the Good Priest" hand-painted on it. The Good Priest, Caitlyn thought. Is that what they call her now? And is that supposed to be a personal symbol for her? I... don't know what I think of that.
As she stepped up towards the Keep, several protesters recognized her and shouted their approval. "Lady Hawke!" one of them exclaimed. "Why can't we have you instead? You and the Warden would never let your boy join the horned heretics!"
That we wouldn't, but I certainly won't tell you why, she thought darkly.
"Hawke! Lady Hawke! He had the nerve to summon you? He has no authority to command any of us anymore! You tell him to step down!"
But there was no time to engage with the angry protesters. As she ascended the steps of the Keep, she became resolved to, in fact, tell Dumar to step down, just as she had threatened at home and just as the protesters wished. He had lost the confidence of his people, and she would impress that fact upon him.
Unfortunately Aveline was waiting for her inside the Keep, a look of anger on her face. Dumar sat miserably behind where she stood, gazing outward, but devoid of hope now.
"I know you are here to see His Grace," Aveline began at once, "but he agrees that the matter that has come to my attention is urgent as well."
"I hope that you can resolve both at once," Dumar pleaded from his chair.
Caitlyn tried to avoid rolling her eyes or snorting in contempt, though she wanted to. How had this man ever managed to convince anyone to support him as Viscount? Had his ascension been entirely the work of Meredith Stannard, either an extralegal assumption of authority to install him, or a campaign of repeated lies to the titled folk of Kirkwall about his fitness to rule? She doubted she would ever know for certain.
"A pair of elves have killed a guardsman," Aveline continued, her nostrils flaring, "and they fled to the Qunari, claiming to be new converts and seeking sanctuary! They are hiding in the Qunari compound, evading justice for their crime."
Caitlyn glowered, not even attempting to hide her fury. "Wonderful," she snapped. "A pair of murderers and a credulous fool of an heir—"
"Caitlyn!" Aveline hissed with an anxious glance at Dumar.
Caitlyn scoffed, completely unconcerned with what Dumar might think. He did not even have the spine to pursue Sebastian, who had helped someone escape jail who had plotted to allow his assassination. He could not stand up to anybody. She had no fear of him—and her utter confidence was vindicated when Dumar sighed heavily, not contradicting her. Perhaps he even agreed.
Aveline sighed in resignation. "I do hope that we can convince the Arishok to dismiss the elves to us for justice. The Viscount's son... if he came willingly, then there might be a problem. But who knows? They don't have families in their culture," she said hopefully, though Caitlyn thought she sounded as if she were trying to convince herself most of all. "Perhaps the Arishok does not fully understand just how grave an insult this is to Kirkwall and can be reasoned with to send Saemus away rather than risk war."
Caitlyn barked a single dark laugh. "Have you spoken with him personally? He doesn't think anything not of the Qun has any importance or value, and he has threatened the city repeatedly. But," she continued, "I suppose we have to try to get him to turn over the killers. A false claim of conversion is surely a different matter." She considered for a moment before adding, "I want to ask Anders if he wants to come along."
Anders did want to join. She was a little surprised that he would leave the house, but he said that he saw her as being in greater danger than the other members of the household, and he would feel much better about there being an additional mage along. As they approached the compound, they noticed that the First Watchmen were on edge.
"Are you here to drag the little idiot out?" growled one of them.
"Not literally," she said, hurrying up the stairs to the place.
"We can't lose you, Serah Hawke," he replied.
"Follow me to the entrance if you must," she allowed, even as Aveline gave her a sharp look of disapproval for this endorsement of vigilantism, "but don't demand to be let in. I promise you, I will not let them harm us in there."
"She means it," Anders said in a low voice to the man.
The Arishok was not pleased to see her. "Hawke," he growled. "You conspire with the priest who is the great enemy of the Qun. Why should I treat with you or believe a word that you say, given that?"
That was not an auspicious beginning. Caitlyn attempted to control both her anger and her fear as she quickly thought of a reply. "This is my home," she said in measured tones. "You command a foreign military force and you are the military head of your government. You have not told anyone what you want. I know what it is," she said, visibly surprising him at this, "but that is because I was told by someone else. Your presence here in a fortified building and three years of silence have created unease and fear among my people."
To her surprise, the Arishok was actually listening to what she said. She did not have much hope that her words would sway him, but at least he was thinking about them. She continued, "It isn't wrong to defend one's home, and the Qunari would do the same thing if outside forces took up a garrison on Par Vollen and sent teams to try to assassinate your leaders or spy on them."
The Arishok was silent for a moment, contemplating. But if her words had persuaded him to anything beyond talking with her after all, he gave no verbal indication of that. When he spoke again, it was to discuss the matter at hand. "The one who was once the Viscount's son has become viddathari willingly, as have the elves," he stated. Caitlyn gazed past him, observing Saemus Dumar—who, to her irritation, stared back boldly, almost defiantly, at her—and the two elves. "They are part of our people now."
Caitlyn realized at once that this was not going to go as Aveline and Dumar wanted it to, but she resolved to try. "Have they truly converted, or are they just foolishly infatuated, or using you as shields?" she asked.
"The one who was the Viscount's son was being raised to rule. He may replace the former Ben-Hassrath that you captured and incited to betray the Qun. We shall see what he is suited for. And the other viddathari! Tell them why you killed the guard!" the Arishok barked at the elven converts.
One of them spoke up. "He forced himself on our sister," he spat, "and no one listened to our complaints!"
A hot anger surged in Caitlyn, and she whirled on Aveline. "Is that true?" she demanded.
Aveline was taken aback. "No, I had no idea about this—but there is a procedure! We can't just hang a man! We have to investigate the allegation."
"Investigate?" the other elf scoffed. "We were turned away. They did not listen to us because we are elves and it was a human guard. So we did justice ourselves."
"Even if the guard did this, even if no one listened, it doesn't make what you did right!" Aveline exclaimed.
"Yes, it does," Caitlyn burst out.
Aveline stared at her friend as if she had never quite seen her. "Hawke!"
"Justice is justice," Caitlyn said, her tone surprisingly dark even to her. "Why is it justice if certain people, certain institutions, do it, while it's merely another crime if a regular person does it because nobody else will?"
Anders gazed at her in admiration and awe.
Aveline drew back slightly. "You really believe that?"
Anders put his arm around her waist in support. "I think she's right."
The Arishok spoke up again. "This is irrelevant. Their actions are mere symptoms. Your society is the disease. They have chosen. The viddathari will submit to the Qun and find a path your way has denied them." He studied her intently. "Tell me, Hawke. What would you do in my place?"
Caitlyn's temper suddenly flared. How dare you? Try to manipulate me to provide cover for you as some sort of pure and just protector, when your culture is every bit as guilty? You're just using people to build up an army!
She turned to the elves instead. "You killed the rapist guard because no one would listen to your account of the crime. You made your own justice. Do you truly think you'll find respect for that kind of justice in the Qun?" She knew she was risking all, but she had had enough. "What if they made your sister be a Tamassran and told her to 'serve' anyone they sent to her? Have you learned what happens to anyone who objects to anything in the Qun? About qamek?"
"Hawke!" Aveline was horrified.
Caitlyn turned to Saemus Dumar, her blood racing. "And you! 'Once the Viscount's son,' he called you! Is that what you wanted, Saemus?" She took a deep breath. "Yes, there are problems and injustices—but things are soon going to be different in Kirkwall. Come back with me and I will make your voices be heard. In the Qun, you don't even get to keep your names. Do you think anyone will hear your voices if you say the 'wrong' things?"
"Hawke!" Aveline exclaimed again. She turned to the Arishok. "Please. She speaks as a private citizen, not an official!"
"Actually, she speaks as the Viscount's representative right now," Anders said.
Caitlyn glared. "I have a feeling none of my views surprise the Arishok—and that he respects candid disagreement more than pathetic simpering." Indeed, the Arishok was staring back at her, clearly in total disagreement, but nonetheless respect that she had the nerve to speak her convictions to his face.
"Enough of this!" Aveline burst out. "This is not about our philosophical differences." She faced the Arishok again, her face set. "This is about following the law of Kirkwall. These elves committed murder. If there are mitigating circumstances, that will be considered at their trials. But I demand that you surrender them for justice!"
The Arishok tensed. All satisfaction drained from his face. "You came too late, Hawke. I warned you that this would be necessary one day, and that day has come. Vinek kathas!"
Caitlyn and Anders did not understand Qunlat, but it needed no translation that the Qunari soldiers surrounding the Arishok drew their weapons. She and Anders barely had time to cast their magical shields as they all dashed for the exit.
Notes: Despite my rather obvious dislike of the Qun, I tried to be a bit fairer to the Arishok here in his conversation with Caitlyn, and I do think the elves were in the right with their vigilante justice. But the Arishok still sacks Kirkwall, murders at least one person (the aging Viscount) who can't defend himself, and he demands Isabela even after he has the Tome of Koslun in hand, so I can't see him as a sympathetic, honorable figure caught in bad circumstances. Not even in this AU. The vigilantes have not attacked him.
